


Mornings

by SilentWinter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black!Reader - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 19:04:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWinter/pseuds/SilentWinter
Summary: Steve wakes up alone, but knows his girl is never too far away.





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not particularly fond of the break in fluency with (Y/N) method of reader-inserts, so any reference to the reader is simply done in pronouns.

With the sunlight warming his eyelids, Steve stretched a lazy arm across the bed into a surprisingly empty pile of blankets next to him. His eyes snapped open to confirm that he was, in fact, alone. Again.

He smirked to himself, concluding the obvious. She had woken up before him; a rare occurrence, particularly on weekends, but not a cause for concern. He knew exactly where she would be.

Rolling out of bed for a long stretch, he reached down and pulled a pair of sweatpants low over his hips. A quick scan of the room told him that his t-shirt was also missing. Shaking his head with that same, smug smirk, he strode out of the room and into the hallway.

There she was at its very end, sitting in the bay window that overlooked the city and a book clenched between her fingers. She bit her lip, stopping in a moment to mull over her thoughts before scribbling furiously in its margins. He paused and quieted himself in an effort not to break her concentration.

He wasn’t entirely fond of Chicago, but it was her insistence that she continue to live in her own River North apartment, regardless of the distance between it and the Avengers Compound. She claimed it was to keep her independence, to which he had to oblige. No, he didn’t like Chicago; he was, however, entirely fond of her.

Damn, she was beautiful. The sun was catching her golden brown skin in all the right ways and cast a halo-like glow around the full head of curls she’d piled on top of her head. He knew that if he were any closer, those brown eyes would be the most striking shade of honey-amber that he’d ever seen. That was his favorite part.

To top it all off, she was in _his_ gray shirt, just skimming the tops of her thoughts as they shifted in the cushions beneath her. 

No, _that_ was his favorite part.

She looked up briefly and the sternness melted into a smile that he swore was only ever created for him to see. Her lips separated to reveal a toothy grin that made his knees weak. “Mornin’, Cap’.”

He grimaced, “Not ‘Cap.’”

She beamed even wider and stood up, walking towards him to meet in the middle of the hall. “Fine, fine,” she relented. “Steven.”

He lunged at her and lifted her to wrap her legs around his waist, planting a quick kiss on her nose. “How about ‘babe?’ I like that one.”

“Or boo,” she laughed as she buried her face in his neck.

“Not boo.” The pages of her book brushed against his neck to remind him that she’d left him alone in bed. “Who’re we waxing philosophical today?”

“Fitzgerald comma F. Scott,” she sighed. “Again.”

Steve hummed in response, remembering the 1920s differently from Mr. Fitzgerald had described in _The Beautiful and the Damned_. “Feel like taking both of us back to bed?”

“Lead the way!” she yelled, pointing toward the bedroom. “Cap,” she added quietly, much to his chagrin.

“Oh, she thinks she’s funny, huh?”

“Hilarious.”

Yeah. That was his girl.


End file.
